


Castiel's Day(s)

by Enochian_Joke



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angel Anna, Angst, Castiel in Dresses, Castiel in Makeup, Depression, Gen, Human Castiel, Original Character(s), Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-03
Updated: 2017-02-09
Packaged: 2018-09-06 06:33:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8738458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Enochian_Joke/pseuds/Enochian_Joke
Summary: Castiel centric ficlets.





	1. Human

Being human was horrible. That much Castiel could say with utmost certainty, as he dug through piles and piles of perfectly edible food thrown in with various other waste in one of many garbage cans hidden from the street-view in a narrow alleyway.  
His throat ached as he swallowed what food he could find that wasn't entirely covered in dubious specks of dirt and carton. Even if Metatron had healed him before he dumped him in the woods in the middle of nowhere, Castiel had had to contend with feeling all the physicality of that as well as new injuries he'd acquired in his clumsy attempts at humanity.

Frankly, given how weak he was, he was surprised somebody hadn't already robbed him of what little he still had left, his stolen clothes and shoes. He could distinctly remember a homeless man muttering something to him about his shoes, how important they were, how they get stolen the most. Castiel had braved everything from supernovas to fires of Hell, and yet, the idea of walking around clothes-less and shoe-less, on the streets covered in gravel and glass, unsettled him enough to keep a close eye on his surroundings.

In his efforts of both finding places he could actually close his eyes for a few moments, and the endless search for food his body stubbornly kept asking for, Castiel hadn't slept much, if he managed to sleep at all. If he hadn't also been nearly deathly afraid of relieving all of what had happened to him in vivid dream like state, as he knew people did, he would lament the lack of rest.

Soon enough though, he would lament the lack of sufficient cover in the midst of a downpour. Funny how living as close to being a human as he could probably get continuously put things into perspective.

Castiel was shivering under his pitiful amount of layers, hiding underneath a too narrow cover of concrete protruding from the facade of a random building in a random alleyway. He didn't see anyone approaching him, so when someone's hand landed softly on his shoulder, he jumped back, and fell swiftly on his ass in a puddle near him.

„I didn't mean to scare you.“ The person said.

Castiel blinked a few times to clear some of the water that had splashed into his eyes and, through the still present blur of a truly torrential downpour, he saw an old lady looking at him underneath her colorful umbrella. Castiel debated running away, before he realized how ridiculous that would be. It was just an old woman. An old human woman. At least as far as he could tell right then.

With some apprehension, Castiel righted himself. „You startled me, I apologize.“

The old woman laughed a raspy little laugh. „Now that I haven't heard in ages. You must have been deep in thought.“

Castel nodded, frowning, a surge of adrenaline rushing through him even if he told himself there was nothing to run away from.

„Say, why don't you join an old lady for a cup of tea? It's cold out here, and it doesn't seem as though this rain will stop any time soon.“

The old woman looked harmless. She sounded harmless. But Castiel felt weakness deeply entrenched into every single cell of his but not his body. Even if his feet felt the most grounded to earth as they'd possibly ever been, at least since the last time he'd gotten close to this state, he thought he could simultaneously float away and fall down in the dirt and die. Still, he was hungry and cold and, despite all the rain soaking into him, incredibly thirsty, so he nodded, and followed the old woman up to her apartment, which turned out to be just the one whose inexplicably protruding concrete detail he'd been hiding under.

„Do you often find strange people underneath your apartment?“ Castiel asked, suddenly somewhat afraid for the old lady, if she indeed was just a normal human.

The old woman shook her head, smiling. „Not as often as you might think. And even if I did, I wouldn't call just any old Joe up into my apartment. I have some standards, you know.“

Castiel didn't entirely understand what she was talking about, but by the way of reading her expression he detected it must have probably been a joke. He nodded again, to show he'd heard her, to which the woman shook her head again and waved her hand at him.

„You can sit down here, I'll make us some tea.“ She said, and went to do just that in the next room over.

Castiel sat down on the couch in what appeared to be the old woman's living room. The couch itself was old and rickety, and it had an intricately woven quilt covering its probably unsightly exterior. All around there were newspapers and books scattered haphazardly, and behind the couch, Castiel saw a sturdy old wooden table. There, a typing machine stood, with stacks of paper surrounding it.

The old woman came back with two cups of tea, settling them down on the only piece off furniture that was free of clutter, the worn out coffee table in front of the couch. She sat down next to Castiel with visible difficulty, before relaxing into the sofa with a sigh.  
Castiel reached for his cup, to which the woman said: „Don't drink it all at once, it's still hot.“

So Castiel settled the cup back down.

„What kind of tea do you like? I realize I forgot to ask, silly me. This is chamomile.“ The woman said, sounding indeed apologetic.

„I don't know.“ Castiel said.

„Oh.“ The woman responded. „You should've told me you're a coffee drinker, I'd have made you the best cup of coffee you could have in the whole city.“

„No...it's, this is fine. It's more than fine. Thank you.“ Castiel hurried to say, uneasy at the thought of being thrown back outside in the freezing cold for being impolite.

The old woman looked at him with knowing eyes, and Castiel wished he could shrink in on himself, or simply fly away. Instead, he smiled at the lady, reached out to take back his cup, and to give her hers.

„People started drinking tea a long time ago, or well, what for you would be a long time ago, in China. I remember...I mean, I, when I think about it, the wonder of discovery of such a simple thing, it's...it's beautiful.“ Castiel said, and took a sip of his drink. „And this is really good, thank you.“

„It better be good. I got it from my sister, she has all sorts of plants you can make tea with, so it's all natural, not like those disgusting bags of dried processed gunk.“ The old woman said, strict, but mellowing once she looked back to Castiel.  
„You know, I'm really old, so I may not understand the wonder and beauty in factual information, but it sure is nice to see a young man speak so spiritedly about something so small.“ She said, taking a careful sip.

Castiel shrugged. „So for you being old means there is no wonder anymore?“

„For me?“ The woman echoed the question, frowning a little. „I'm just too tired these days to feel much of that I suppose.“

„I hope that changes then.“ Castiel simply said, to which the woman laughed and promptly almost coughed her lung out.

„I'm afraid I'm a bit short on time for hope.“ She said.

Castiel set his cup of tea back on the coffee table. „You have plenty of time.“

„What would you know?“ The old woman said, sounding somewhat affronted. „You're the one who has time, so you better use it young man. I've helped you, maybe because I felt sorry for you, maybe because I want to do as many good deeds as I can before I croak, but as soon as you're out of here I expect you to pick yourself up and do something with yourself instead of resigning yourself to your fate.“

Castiel's eyes widened, and in a fraction of a second he caught himself, and pulled his wandering thoughts back. „I don't like being homeless, that is true.“ He said. „But I'm not certain how I could possibly find a job or a place to stay when I'm...“  
And again, there was just no way to explain. The old woman smiled at him, a crooked smile this time.

„There are places for people like you out there. I will help you find one if you want, but from then on you're on your own.“ The woman said.

„Places?“ Castiel questioned, grimacing in confusion.

„Yes. I've taken a few druggies there myself, and I'll tell ya, at least two of them I know have turned things around. So that's not bad odds.“

„I'm not a drug addict.“ Castiel said, but with no malice. He had no doubt he looked like one, his lack of sleep and adequate nutrition changing the body he'd forcibly been tethered to. „I just...I don't have, uh...papers? Address...phone.“

For a moment Castiel tensed for having revealed maybe too much, but when he saw compassion in the old woman's eyes he relaxed, and she said: „Never you mind. I understand. My sister got sent back, I know. We'll see about getting you some help. Tomorrow though, if you don't mind. I have to sleep now.“

Castiel washed the old woman's dishes and offered to clean her apartment, which she decidedly refused. Then, he helped her with her medication, and helped her get into bed. 

The woman coughed all through the night, even with the mask, and Castiel didn't sleep. He was afraid to sleep, even in the confines of a safe apartment, and unsettled at the woman's illness, feeling he had to stay vigilant.

The next morning, Castiel's heart skipped as the woman wouldn't wake, even after he'd shaken her. Just as he was going to attempt to call her name and realized he didn't know it, the woman woke up.

„Ah, it's you. I haven't had anyone beside me for too long.“ She said. „Now help the old woman up, would you?“

Castiel did, and they had tea. Or, rather, something similar.

„It's sage.“ The old woman explained. „You put a little bit of it in warm water. Suppose to keep you healthy. Not that it's any good to me. But to you, it will help, I'm sure.“

„Thank you.“ Castiel said, feeling words weren't enough at all.

Back when the woman was making them tea, Castiel noticed a painting on a wall next to a crucifix. He hadn't been in many human homes as recently as a hundred years back, needless to say, so he didn't know if it was common to have religious items so fully on display, but it felt eerie for him. And a sharp grief bloomed in his chest.

It was a painting of Michael defeating the devil by a Spanish painter Castiel had the barest of recollections of. Even as an angel, keeping track of the vast and constantly changing map of human life was a daunting task.

„That?“ The woman said, noticing what Castiel was so intently focused on. „It's a piece of crap my sister left.“

„You aren't religious?“ Castiel guessed, tearing his eyes away from a entirely inaccurate but charming portrait of his brother.

„No.“ The woman said. „Not anymore.“

Castiel accepted he would get no further explanation, when the woman's expression turned dark and thoughtful. It's not like he didn't understand, at least partly. He knew for certain it was all real, even if slightly different than the ever chancing stories, but he didn't believe in anything anymore either.

„Pack up.“ The woman suddenly said. „Let's get you sorted, so you can get out of my hair and let me die in peace.“

Castiel didn't realize how difficult it would be to pretend to be human, but even more so to fit in seamlessly, revealing none of his past, none of himself, to anyone. The old woman spoke for him, thankfully, and she handed him his fake papers a week later.  
„Now get out and, please, do some good back.“ She said.

She didn't have to ask him, because Castiel would. To be able to stand on the two feet that were now as deeply his as ever, and to be able to extended the same kindness he'd been shown, well, at least that there was a way Castiel could, regardless of an absent God, a tyrant leader, and his sore lack of friends, maybe foster back some faith.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set after Dean ever so gracefully kicked Castiel out of the bunker, using some of what we've seen from s9ep3 as well, but without that obvious thing which makes the whole episode the shitfest that it is. 
> 
> I also call this: "How in the Hell did Castiel get a job with no papers or credentials mini explanation fic".


	2. Fallen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Let's say, Cas is actually living in the bunker after he became "human". And then, let's revive the entirely logical conclusion I once made on his possible wardrobe choices. Let's also say this is fluff.

A month after the fall Castiel opens his eyes to a small room. There is nothing there but a table, a closet, and a bed. Castiel takes a few deep breaths before getting up, observing the scarce room, lingering on the emptiness of it, the narrow space made up of solid brick walls. There are no windows in the bunker, and there never seems to be enough air. 

Castiel moves to the closet to find clothes to hide his vessel's nakedness with things that are also not his own, things that are borrowed. He lingers in front of the closet, feeling a steady rise of unbearable discomfort. The closest he could understand this enough to describe it is fear, but he stands confused as to why he would feel fear now, when nothing is happening. There is no danger here.

He grimaces as he finally opens the closet doors and picks the clothes. He crumples the fabric in his hands, holds it tightly, the rough material of the blue jeans and its buttons digging into his flesh. The plaid shirt falls out of his hands and the jeans he flings at the clear wall on his right. He stomps on the fallen shirt as he walks out of the room and into a hallway. He shuts the doors and leans on them, the damaged wood scraping his back with every intake of breath. 

Clutching his chest he takes one last deep breath and moves towards the kitchen where there's a coffee maker. 

Castiel is in the middle of the main room, a few steps away from his goal, when he hears someone shouting. He turns around abruptly, staggering a few feet back. It's Dean, of course, and he's saying something about Castiel's lack of clothes.

„Cas, for fuck's sake, I gave you those for a reason, now go back and put something on.“

Castiel observes him for a moment, the flush of his face, the deeply etched frown and wild gesticulating as he stubbornly talks of clothes. Castiel looks down and then back up.

„I'm sorry Dean, I was just getting some coffee, do you want some coffee?“ He says and then stalks back up the stairs and into the kitchen. Dean follows him.

„Cas, wait.“ He says, his voice considerably softer.

Castiel stops and feels a weight around his shoulders. 

„At least a robe, okay?“ 

It's gray and soft and it smells nice. Castiel puts it on properly. „Okay.“

Dean smiles at him. „Go sit down, I'll make the coffee. You know I'm the kitchen king, you'll only get the very best.“ He winks and pulls the bag of coffee beans out of the cupboard. They are one of the more expensive ones. 

„Of course Dean.“ 

Castiel makes himself comfortable at the large table in the middle of the room and picks up today's newspapers. He's not really reading any of the articles but there's something in his hands at least. He can hear Dean working, pulling the things in and out of cupboards as he needs them. Dean is very loud whenever he's in there.

„Do you want to try it with honey today?“ Dean seems enthusiastic about his suggestion so Castiel agrees.

Dean brings two cups and sits down across from Castiel. He pushes one gently closer to Castiel who takes it, and blows on it, before taking a careful sip. It's as sweet as it would have been with sugar, but it also has a fullness that sugared coffee doesn't. 

„It's very good. Thank you Dean.“ 

Dean smiles again and sips his own. There's a strange scent coming from his cup, something that's also sweet but strong and familiar. Castiel puts his cup down. He leans towards Dean and grabs the cup from his hands. Dean yelps and swears as the few stray droplets of hot coffee hit his hand.

„Cas, the fuck are you doing?“

Castiel looks at him and then down to where he's holding the cup. It's still hot and he should put it down, but he doesn't. Instead, he blows on it and takes a small sip. There's rum in it, and a lot of it. 

„I thought you stopped.“ 

Dean looks nervous. He scratches the back of his neck.

„I did...I mean, I don't...I don't drink as much as I used to.“

Castiel nods but he doesn't give him his coffee back.

„You did drink quite a lot. I always wondered how you managed it. The after effects are horrible.“

Dean scoffs at that and looks away. „Yeah well, I guess I'm just lucky I can handle my liquor.“ He turns back to Castiel and adds smartly: „Unlike you.“ 

Castiel laughs a mirthless little laugh. „Yes, I suppose.“ He puts the coffee with the rum down and takes his own back into his hands. He then offers it to Dean.

„It's really good, with honey...you should try it.“

Dean frowns and reaches for the one with the rum. Castiel catches his hand and nudges it away.

„Drink this one, please.“ He tries again.

Dean lowers his arm with his own slowly. Castiel lets it go but doesn't pull away.

He sighs. „Cas, I already had my coffee with honey, with sugar, milk, no milk, every kind basically. I know how it tastes.“ He reaches for his coffee again but Castiel stops him.

„This one.“ 

Dean rolls his eyes and rubs his forehead. „Fine.“ He takes the one with the honey and drinks it. It has cooled off by now. 

Castiel takes the one with the rum and takes a sip. He makes a face to which Dean snorts. „Can't handle it, huh?“ 

„I guess not.“ Castiel agrees with no fuss and goes to throw it away.

Sam joins them later and Dean makes a proper breakfast. He's loud again, enough to wake a bear mid winter. 

***

The morning that Castiel appears naked in the main room once again causes Dean to drag him outside, fully clothed of course, and demand they go and get him clothes he'll be comfortable in. 

They drive to the nearest town where Dean locates a small convenience store with sales on shirts and jackets. Castiel follows him up until he notices a shop two buildings down. He turns to Dean and grabs his hand, pointing to where he wants to go.

„Dude, Cas, that's a chick store.“

Castiel looks to the store and then back at Dean.

„I want to go there.“ He insists.

Dean opens his mouth to say something but then grimaces and starts walking.

„Dean, if you're uncomfortable you can wait outside.“ Castiel suggests upon seeing Dean's expression. 

„No, no, fuck it, it's just a chick store, I can handle it, no problem.“ Dean counters, fidgeting nervously in place, despite his words.

Castiel nods and adds: „If you say so.“

When they enter they sense a smell of sweet perfume and a faint one of various other cosmetics. There's an isle with various make up appliances and an isle dedicated solely to dresses and skirts. The shop is not very spacious but it is well arranged within the afforded space. Castiel is at the make up isle before Dean can even react.

„Dude uh, didn't you say something about monkeys and lipsticks a year back?“ 

Castiel picks the red tester lipstick up and studies the color intently, before deciding it's not the shade he wants so he puts it back and turns to Dean.

„Not every cosmetic is tested on animals Dean. I happen to know this one isn't.“

Dean scoffs and picks one up himself. It's pink.

„Yeah, and how do you know that?“ He opens the lid and sniffs it carefully as though it might harm him.

„I've done research.“

Before Dean can object again Castiel is already looking at skirts a row ahead. Dean puts the lipstick back clumsily and by the time he's fixed it from almost falling he sees there's a woman now talking to Castiel.

She smiles at him pleasantly and removes a skirt Castiel must have selected from it's hanger. He moves to the changing room and Dean follows.

„The fuck are you doing Cas?“ He asks in a hushed voice, opening the curtains just enough to see Cas shimmying into the grayish blue skirt decorated with what look like small black flowers and vines.

„Cas, this is ridiculous.“ 

Castiel pulls it on all the way and turns around.

„Dean, you told me we would go and get clothes I feel comfortable in. I dislike jeans and I dislike trousers. They are needlessly confining. I've checked the prices and they are all under the budget, I don't see the problem.“

„Dude, you're a, you're a dude, dude's don't wear skirts.“ 

Castiel removes the skirt and folds it neatly.

„Then I will continue being naked in inappropriate rooms.“

Dean smacks his forehead and sighs a long weary sigh. They end up buying three skirts, one burgundy red lipstick and a black mascara.

That night they're sitting on the grass overlooking a small lake a few minutes away from their bunker. Castiel is dressed in his skirt and is wearing two sizes too big a black shirt. His lips are red and his eyelashes are coated with two layers of the black mascara.

„Okay so, I get the skirts, I guess, but what's up with the paint?“ Dean asks, throwing a rock in the lake. 

Castiel shrugs and does the same. His rock goes farther.

„I don't really know. Makeup has had a lot of different applications in human history and even now it differs greatly based on your geographic location but...“

Dean nudges him with his shoulder. „But?“

„I heard that making yourself look pretty makes people feel better.“ He says to which Dean laughs.

„Women you mean, it makes women feel better.“ Dean corrects him. Castiel frowns, but doesn't say anything. 

Enough time passes for Dean to successfully do three rock frogs. Silence between them stretches on until Dean sighs and turns to Castiel, who seems intent on squinting his way through a leaf of grass he picked.

Dean resolves to simply ask: „Does it make you feel better?“

Castiel swallows thickly and moves to wipe his eyes with his hands before he remembers there's makeup on them. He lowers his arm back, clutching on the grass lightly.

„I'm not sure...“ He starts. „...I think it does, a little.“

Dean can't argue with that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this ages ago, but I thought it would work nice within this work.


	3. Vessel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel and Lucifer have a little talk.

Castiel was so sure of himself, so confident this was the right choice. He had no other cards to play in this battle, useless as he was. But it wasn't right, it really wasn't. Jimmy Novak's body couldn't hold Lucifer for long, especially not if Castiel was there as well, even if diminished.

No, he had no right to do all that he had done to a body he had tricked into possessing. Dean was right to admonish him for it, now perhaps even more so.

„I care, Castiel. And I love. More than you will ever know, or understand.“ Lucifer said, calmly, as if he was explaining it to a child.

Castiel was a child, compared to his brother. They hadn't all come to be at the same time, and Castiel was formed only after Lucifer had already fallen. Who was he to presume he knew him at all?

But, there was a force inside Castiel, he felt, a certainty. 

He said: „You're too cruel to care, and too self absorbed to know love. You fell because of jealousy, that, and nothing else.“

Lucifer smiled and, Castiel thought, if they had both been corporeal at the time, his brother would have touched him gently, and a sliver of cold would have passed through him. As it was, he could only feel, and the more he felt, the more he could no longer conceive of himself.

„Humanity is just a gathering of children, running around aimlessly, repeating the same mistakes over and over again. And, in that, they think of themselves as superior. Surely, at this point, you would recognize it too.“ Lucifer said.

„Whatever you say will only prove you wrong. It will only prove how much you don't understand them at all.“ Castiel fought, through the fog and fire, as Lucifer's voice carried him soundlessly through space.

„And you think you understand them? I know you Castiel, I've seen you. I've seen everything that you refuse to, everything you ignore and call it love and kindness.“ Lucifer said, as calm and sure of himself as ever.

Castiel wondered where all that confidence was coming from, even in the wake of an unsuitable vessel and an army yet to be properly formed. The angels were afraid, and lost, having been destroyed so deeply over and over again by Castiel himself, and his stupid mistakes.

Either that would deter Lucifer's plans, or it would prove to be helpful, if the faith that they find is the faith in their fallen brother.

And still, Lucifer seemed to grow stronger, as Castiel grew weaker. Once they'd settled down, down in the deepest parts of Hell, Castiel felt foggy, weak. If he'd been in control of his physical body, he thought he'd probably faint and sleep for a millennia more.

„You've given up Castiel.“ Lucifer taunted him. „And you lost yourself to the inevitable corruption of humanity. Just look at you, sitting there, in a pale fabrication of a place you can't even bear to go back to. You're pathetic.“

Castiel couldn't very well argue with that. Lucifer scoffed on the outside and in. 

„I need to find a vessel.“ He mused. „Do you think Sam would take me back? I thought we'd bonded quite well when he was last down here.“ 

Lucifer sounded much too amused for Castiel to take it lightly and say nothing, even if he wasn't certain if Lucifer was talking to him, or to any of the myriad of demons at his feet.

„Sam would rather die than say yes to you.“ Castiel said, breaking fractionally out of his foggy stupor.

Lucifer hummed, looking over his minions, who looked back with extreme caution and palpable fear.

„We could go back in time.“ Lucifer said. „Have ourselves a pick of the litter.“

„Sir...“ One of the demons managed. „...you might be too weak like this, to travel anywhere.“

Rolling his eyes, Lucifer settled more comfortably into the throne that previously belonged to Crowley, and said: „What do you think Cas? We did it once together, might we give it another try?“

„I refuse.“ Castiel simply said, and Lucifer laughed gleefully, and sighed. „Oh, Cas, you kill me, you really do. I do love it when you fight back a little, it makes all of this much less boring.“

„You will probably burn out if we extended ourselves. Or rather, this body will.“ Lucifer continued, sounding entirely unbothered. „So we have ourselves a bit of a dilemma.“

„You have it, I don't. I don't have any power here. And I'm not afraid to die.“ Castiel said, tearing his eyes away from the pale comfort of a cartoon playing on loop, to stare down the devil himself.

„Oh, aren't you? You know what happens to angels when they die, you've died plenty of times now not to know. They perish, their energy succumbs to the Universe, becomes a part of it. In a way, you live, but the You is gone. Humans have the privilege of a soul, and we do not.“ Lucifer said, , dismayed and angry.

"Is that why you hate them?" Castiel asked, with all the accusing tone his voice could muster.

"No. I hate them because of how ungrateful they are.“ Lucifer responded, terse and annoyed. „I hate them because they never learn. They keep on destroying themselves, forsaking god, thinking they are special, worthy, important. They are impertinent and arrogant."

"That's easy to say. But you are the same. As long as free will exists, for them, and for us, a utopia you dream of is impossible. There will be resistance, there always is."

Lucifer laughed, a long drawn out half laugh. All the demons in the room froze, stock still.

„Then maybe we should obliterate free will.“ He said. „Let's say, Cas, you and I, we get rid of humans, and demons, and every and any iteration of humanoid monsters, and then you can show me exactly what Naomi did to keep your perky ass in line.“

Yelping, Lucifer clutched Castiel's vessel's head, folding in on himself. Castiel's grace charged through him in an electric moment, before dissipating into a simmer once more.

„Damn.“ Lucifer cursed, grimacing. „All of you, fuck off out of my sight!“ He told the demons, who promptly scattered in vapes of black smoke.

„Cas, Cas, Cas...seems there's still some fight in you yet.“ Lucifer said, sounding impressed even.

„You will fail.“ Castiel simply said.

Lucifer shrugged, smiling a wide snake like smile. „Yes well...you've already failed, and failed some more, so you're an expert little brother. But I'm different. I'm better than you, better than Raphael, better than Gabriel, and better than Michael. And let me tell you, spending what seemed like eternity with Michael in that cage, well...it makes an angel go a bit crazy.“

Castiel said nothing more, he had nothing else to say even if he wanted to. He could subdue Lucifer one more time at least, and hopefully, that one time would be enough for both of them to perish.

***

Castiel didn't die. Of course he didn't.

When he finally found his bearings after being banished, he realized he was, for once, in a familiar place.

Not that this familiarity gave him any comfort.

He was standing in front of a church that he'd visited once, what then seemed like ages ago, where he carved out his place in the world as a god, and managed to make a flimsy and obnoxious mural of a body that wasn't his, stand in all its glory in one of the windows.

How apt, he thought, as he ventured in over the yellow tape, finding it all inside still, broken and abandoned, the mural 's head smashed, letting rays of sun through it.

Castiel smiled, a crooked and sad smile, as he sat down in one of the undamaged bench rows. Who was he, indeed, to disparage Lucifer on any of his many faults, when desperation, hopelessness, and hubris, have been his downfall as well?

Lucifer spoke so ill of their death, but sitting where he was right then, Castiel thought, the world would not miss a Him, and there was no need to waste energy on keeping him alive in a place either as chaotic as Hell or as dull and static as Heaven. 

And then, he thought, of course that would be too easy. Castiel begun fearing he may never die for good, if he hadn't yet, then how could he?

Then, he thought of Jimmy Novak. He'd thought of him often as of late, with Claire back in their lives. He thought of how unfair it's all been for his family, how Castiel used to be so certain Jimmy was consenting out of faith, trusting an angel, when he never should have. 

But, it it hadn't been him, it would have been Claire and Jimmy knew that, if not the first time he said yes, then certainly the second. 

And then, she would be sitting here, her body having housed the devil himself, suffering a tole no human vessel should ever have to suffer.

Castiel felt ridiculous and misplaced, sitting in that church booth, waiting for something, anything, to happen. Perhaps a new god would waltz right in, break the whole thing down into rubble. He wished he could crawl out of his vessel and fly away, possibly burn out, take control of his death, as it seemed it would never be freely given to him.

He couldn't crawl out of his vessel. Without his wings to carry him, he would be a mass of energy, walking around the earthly plane, burning people's eyes out left and right as he went. The thought might have been funny, Castiel mused, if it didn't leave him feeling constrained and tired.

Figuring he had to get a move on, make use of his existence, he got up out of the booth, took one last look at the broken halo on his self made vitrail, and walked out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sure Castiel and Lucifer would have a lot to talk about, but I focused on the situation at hand during Castiel's possession.


	4. Angel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anna and Castiel have a talk while stationed on Earth during the 70s.

It was a time of revolution in music and culture. They were standing in the midst of a dancing crowd of people dressed in colorful outfits, moving spiritedly to the sounds of an enchanting performer on stage. His hair was chopped short and painted orange, and his skin tight one piece moved in perfect synchronicity with the languid movements of his body.

The people morphed into a mass of moving lights and colors as the music got louder, and the room dimmer.

Castiel saw more than that, they all did. Beyond the skin and the artificial light, there was humanity, nothing but a fickle little light, something akin to, but perhaps less, than a dying star.

For them, it was a day like any other, centuries after they'd been ordered to observe, steady and silent like the sculptures in places of worship dedicated to them.

Uriel stood on the balcony, near the highest lights, unwilling, as always, to stand close to the moving bodies on the ground, even if neither could touch. With him were Hester and Inias, equally as silent, although, Castiel thought, not nearly as emotional about being there.

Castiel, for his part, accompanied Anna to the bottom floors, where the music could still be heard, but seemed instead to be a place of greater iniquity. Anna didn't appear to mind, as she walked around, seemingly aimless, doing her utmost best to ignore Castiel, who followed her as dutifully as her second in command should have.

„You know Castiel, even if you aren't right next to me, you will still know where I am.“ She said.

„Then I might as well be next to you.“ Castiel retorted, fiddling with the nearest object, which happened to be a well crafted, but fake, type of crystal rock.

„I admire your sense of duty.“ Anna said, „...but I've grown tired of it.“

Castiel watched as Anna flickered through the room, observing endlessly and closely, all the bodies moving in unison, encompassed by thick smoke. Not for the first time since they'd been stationed on Earth, Castiel saw something else happen, and hoped, once again, that it had gone unnoticed by the rest of their garrison.

„Don't you ever think about this? What it would be like? What it would feel like?“ Anna asked suddenly, flickering close to where Castiel had sequestered himself, on a little patch of space where nothing seemed to be happening.

„You can't say that.“ Castiel said, feeling urgent and knowing Anna could see it. Inexplicably though, she didn't seem alarmed, or annoyed.

„I can't. And yet I've said it.“ Anna pointed out, and Castiel finally pinpointed what seemed amiss.

„You're...“ He began, but the trail of thought had lost him over the impossibility of what was to be said next.

„I am?“ Anna mocked him, simmering down next to a couple engaged in sex. „I am.“ She finally said. „But I don't want to just be. I want to live Castiel. I want this. I want all of it.“

Castiel rushed to silence her, but instead he was pulled out of the room and into the above and outside, miles away, finally settling on a patch of grass in the middle of the woods.

„You're too transparent with your desires. If you keep saying these things, you will be punished.“ Castiel said, his concern going entirely unnoticed as Anna's grace grew weary.

„It hurts Cas.“ She said. „And I don't even know how that's possible. But it is. It hurts more than any punishment they could give.“

„We are angels Anna.“ Castiel said, imploring. „That's all we can ever be. And our mission is to observe, not to get involved.“

„Our mission.“ Anna repeated, slow and terse, as she regarded Castiel's presence. „We've had a lot of missions Castiel. And we did get involved plenty. Whenever they wanted us to, for whatever horrible duty we had to perform on their behalf. It was fine then, but wanting for ourselves is not? We are sentient beings Cas. If God wanted us to be obedient soldiers, he wouldn't have given us awareness of being.“

„Humans are sometimes soldiers too.“ Castiel pointed out. „We've seen them do what we do, even with the free will. Maybe that's the thing that isn't there.“

„Right.“ Anna said. „But it is there. Have we been to the same place just now? Did you not see how...how amazing it all is? How much complexity and feeling and passion can exist and is denied to us? What did we do to deserve such a loss?“

„We didn't do anything.“ Castiel said. „This is just what we are meant to do.“

Anna laughed at that. Silence between them persisted, and Castiel didn't know what to do, how to fix what had come undone. Anna didn't listen to him then as she hadn't before, and as she wouldn't again after the fact.

Oftentimes Castiel still thought about it, how close they'd been there to what would eventually transpire, what would eventually tear them apart and become Castiel's downfall, almost like a legacy he never wanted, or understood, until it was too late to go back.

„We should have a choice.“ Anna said. „Every living thing should have a choice. Every living thing should be free.“

„It's not as easy as that.“ Castiel countered. „If everyone was free to do what they wanted, there would be no order, no rules. It would be chaos, again, and that is not what God intended.“

„God. Who knows if he's even there Castiel?“ Anna said. „I can't pretend anymore. I can't take this anymore. I feel, I want, and I know it's not easy, it should be, but it isn't.“

Their grace combined at Anna's will, and Castiel could feel all of what she felt, as they embraced. If he were less of an angel, he probably would have cried. As it was, all of it was secondary to him, and malicious. And incredibly dangerous.

„Do you want to fall, Anna? Like Lucifer did? Is that what you want because... I don't understand.“ Castiel said, beginning to grow desperate.

„No.“ Anna said. „Of course not. But there is another way. And I won't wait for them to take that choice away from me.“

As soon as they'd come to the woods, they were back in the place they were originally supposed to be. Neither of their garrison seemed to have noticed them missing, or if they had, they didn't think much of it.

Castiel wondered if they knew, if they could tell as he could, what Anna was thinking, what she was feeling. Then, he wondered, if they hadn't just been waiting for their superiors to fix it, knowing, unlike Castiel, that they couldn't do anything about it themselves.

Uriel passed by them, and Castiel told them where to go next. Neither of them lingered to see the end of the show, except for Anna.

The crowd of moving souls emitted sounds of laughter and cheer, and their happiness seemed almost palpable, if such a thing were possible. The performer bowed, and his presence kept on encompassing the room, even after he was long gone.

Castiel took note of that, remembering all the different souls that could have done just that, in moments where it appeared they are, or could be, more than they were. Moments when their souls came upon a strong life of their own, even before they'd left their physical forms.

It was incredible, that much Castiel could give to Anna. It was why he didn't mind being on Earth at all. Except, apparently there was a difference between being and living. He saw Anna settling around what was left of the equipment on stage, the instruments themselves still brimming with energy.

„We have to go.“ He said.

„I know you don't understand Castiel.“ Anna said to him. „But maybe you will, one day. I have faith in you.“

Castiel should have realized then, what his instincts had been telling him ever since they'd been on Earth. Anna would fall soon after, and the next time he saw her would be in her vessel of choice, fighting alongside the man he would save from Hell and, eventually, they would fight on opposite sides.

Castiel had many regrets. Anna was one of the greatest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love Anna. (*lies back down into the gutter of feelings that is Anna and Cas' relationship*)


End file.
